He headed for the exit. He knew that it was an exit, the big green sign with a man fleeing out a door, signified it clearly. He pushed at the glass-door, yet with a hand tucking at his back he let go, watching as his hand-print faded on the filthy glass.
"Where are you going?" He turned and saw his assistant, Marie, stare at him through her hornet glasses.
"Out." He responded.
"I'm not an idiot, I can see THAT. But where?" She retorted and impatiently took a sip out of the glass of water she held. He shook his head, then changed his mind and shrugged instead.
"Well, seeing as the world is about to tip over. Anywhere but inside sounds good." He looked at the glass she held.
"Eyes up here mister!" She ordered, he frowned and snickered.
"Don't flatter yourself Marie. It's the glass I was looking at."
Marie raised her eyebrows as her cheeks darkened and looked down at the glass. The water was not resting horizontally within it, instead the water's surface was tilted, near flowing over the edge.
"What the f***!?" She exclaimed, dropping the glass in shock. It spread in pieces across the marble floor.
"We are tilting over. Geez - get with it Marie. Watch the news." He mumbled and headed out the door. Marie rushed down the hall to find a television. He stepped out into the summer heat and sighed with delight. A driverless car rolled past, he waved goodbye. He lost balance and steadied himself by leaning against the building's wall.
He was lucky that there was not much to roll around and crush him on this street, most cars and trash-container were underground.
He took his name-tag off his shirt and gave it a glance. -- George Washington-- . His mother thought he had been destined to be a leader with that name - more like the object of ridicule and jokes. He tossed it to the ground, yet it turned in the air and fell upon the building's wall and lay there. George noticed he was lying down. Instinctively he jumped to his feet, and looked around - tentatively touched the side-walk that was now level with his head. He whistled in amazement and began walking along 'up' the building. The logic was that if the world was tipping over, the sky would eventually become the ground and by being at the top of the building, he would be closer to the 'ground' and that much less likely to be splattered in the inevitable descent. The sun was nice. He side-stepped past an open window, getting a slight chill at the thought of falling in through it. This building had some very large rooms, it would have been a long fall into a hill of cabinets and computers.
"Mr. Washington!" Someone shouted from within. George stepped back and looked down through the open window. There at the bottom stood Marie, looking up like a kid at the bottom of a well.
"Ah Marie!" George said, recognizing her in the dim light by her hornet glasses.
"Are you still going to be at the 3 o'clock synergy meeting?" She asked, loosing her balance a bit as one of the broken table-tops she stood on shifted. George frowned at the question, looked around at the surroundings. The top of the building was now beginning to slant down, the world was still in the progress of tilting over.
"Ahh, I don't think so Marie... Look I need to get moving. Catch you later." George gave her a quick polite smile and proceeded down the 'building-path'. Behind him he heard her, her voice fading into nothing with every step.
"It's mandatory - you know THAT and I-"
That little conversation had cost him the progress he had hoped to make. The building was now tilting steeply, in a 40 degrees slant. He began jogging, mostly trying to slow his speed down the slant and avoiding the windows. This was one of the best Monday's he had had in a long time.
He had reached just about the 25th floor out of the 30, when the slant became too steep and an uneven brick sent him tripping. He desperately tried to regain balance - only to end up toppling forward. It evolved into a wild barrel-roll, which 're'-evolved into a bounce-smash-roll-bounce-repeat. He prayed the clouds would be softer than these bricks. Soon his prayers were answered and he took off entirely as the building was now in a 80 degree angle - and the only thing that held him up was the air. Which it was not very good at, considering how light air is.
First he was delighted at the cool, fresh air enveloping him as he free-fell 'upwards', yet as he entered the layer of smog that had inhabited the city's sky, he was disappointed in that this 21st century society had not had not handled the pollution issue prior to this 'world-tilting-over' deal.
He coughed deeply and hoarsely in a manner of protest - none heard him, so he made a mental note to write the world leaders some time soon and protest. He was dictating the first protest-letter in his mind, when he passed out due to lack of a thing called oxygen.
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